Red Sands
by Wolfpuppies
Summary: Eva Bishop, a human born with rare power, is forced to hide her biotic abilities. That is until she is discovered by those who would exploit her, and is kidnapped and forced into a pit fighting ring for entertainment. No one leaves the arena alive. A fact Tacitus, a Turian and veteran fighter content with eventually dying in the ring knows all too well, but Eva refuses to believe.
1. Chapter 1 Introduction

Chapter 1: Introduction

The sky was clear and seemingly sparkled a rich blue. Odd for Cyrene, for it seemed that raining was the natural state on this colony. Not a cloud in sight, and the stone-like tree line in the distance had taken a break in its seemingly endless dance. The mud had even dried up and ceased to pocket the paths between the pods and the colony center. Eva could see kids playing in the field that bisected the colony and divided residential pods from the commercial district. She imagined they were playing soldier or king of the hill, given the general mob filled with children shoving and tumbling with whoever was closest to them.

She almost wished she could go out there and play soldier too, but that was after all why she was stuck in this office pod, so she didn't have to just play soldier one day. She has been working for almost a year now, as an office clerk in the local security office. Bored and without work to be done, Eva sighed at the thought of straightening all the pens and papers on her desk for the hundredth time since she had something productive to do. Maybe she would shift there orientation to horizontal in front of her instead of vertical and left abreast. The effort would consume all of 30 seconds and then another 30 to ensure they were all parallel.

A minute later, she decided to read through her emails which were open on the terminal, nothing important. A bit of office chatter, a few notices, but at the bottom she had received another message from the Alliance. She had been corresponding with the Alliance since she finished schooling, but she couldn't join without reporting to a recruiting station. Unfortunately the closest station was half a galaxy away. Her brief excitement was extinguished, as she was denied, again, an application for special consideration.

"Eva," a familiar voice called from behind her, "Could you go fetch me another cup of coffee?" Her father said, leaning halfway outside his office. "Is the Alliance hounding you still?" Her father asked having noticed the open email though unable to read the text but able to see the large Alliance logo at the top. "They are only trying to fill a quota."

"I know." She responded sharply. She hadn't told him she wanted to join. She hadn't even told him she wanted to leave. They wouldn't understand. Her parents were very protective of their daughter. She was lucky to be working, and even then it was by her father's side. She loved her parents, and they were very happy on Cyrene. This colony was their paradise, it just wasn't hers. She dreamed of seeing the stars, visiting Earth her species home planet, and seeing aliens up close.

"I'll go get your coffee." She said remembering her father's original request and avoiding this conversation until later. She got up from her desk, and her father retreated back into his office.

The office was about as busy as she had been. She wondered if the security officers were also daydreaming about playing soldier with the children on hill. She was sure that the kids wouldn't mind and half the men here were as immature as twelve year old children. Three of the seven officers were present, with the others out making rounds no doubt. Phil, the oldest of the officers smiled at her as she walked past his desk. His face was beginning to show signs of the toll age takes as his short black hair is fade around the temples and permanent bags formed under his green eyes, but he had a kind, gentle face. She returned the smile as she passed him.

In the break room, the deep aroma of crushed coffee beans invaded her nostrils. It smelled like that around the clock, for there was never any shortage of brewed coffee even late into the afternoon. Michael leaned against the counter sipping from a small white mug that read in white lettering inside a red heart "I love mom". He looked up as she walked in the room and nodded to acknowledge her presence. Michael was the youngest, 21, a year older than she was, and yet had very soft unpronounced facial structure that made him look younger than her. A smooth jaw coupled with a bright face masked his age. The deep blue security uniform was a bit big for him as well. He had a small frame and long lanky arms.

"Busy day at the office?" Michael sarcastically smirked as he got out of the way of Eva and the half empty pot. Michael was a good friend, and a friendly face in the office. They grew up together, and in a small colony, it's hard not to live parallel lives with friends.

"Haha very funny" She replied as she poured fresh coffee into a mug. "At least my shift is about done. Annie will be here to keep you company through the night." Eva smirked as Michael rolled his eyes. She had caught them making out last week late at night in a supply closet, and it brought her pleasure to remind them.

"Shame, it's such a beautiful day, and I am stuck here." Michael changed the subject, dodging her comment.

"Yes, stuck here." Eva reinforced. "Say hi to Annie for me," Eva asked as she left the kitchen with coffee in hand.

"Wait." Michael called out as she got to the door.

"What?" Eva replied.

"Could you do the thing? Please." Michael begged. She knew right away what he was asking. She wished she had never told him. He was the one of two people that knew, and he only knew because he walked in unannounced onetime.

"I really shouldn't. My dad could walk in." She replied trying to convince him but more herself otherwise. She hated that she had to keep this part of herself a secret. Michael starred back, wide eyed begging. She sighed. There was no one except them, nobody could find out.

In an instance, she channel all of her attention to her hands, and in a purple glow her father's mug began levitate above her cupped hands. She held it for a few seconds before she stopped, and grabbed the cup out of the air. Michael clapped in approval. It was called biotics according to the extranet. Powers granted to few due to prenatal exposure to element zero, but beyond making light objects float, she couldn't say what she could do.

"I have to go." She said opening the door back into the main room. "Have fun with the rest of your shift." A fleeting remark as she didn't give him a chance to respond as the door shut behind her.

She actually was looking forward to the afternoon. A trader was coming in today with goods, but she was more interested in the trader himself. She was hoping to negotiate travel off world, she has been working all year, but tickets off this rock are expensive and far between. She has been waiting for the next ship to take her away, hopefully to human controlled space, but a ride to the galactic capital, the Citadel, would be preferred. She knew her parents wouldn't like it, leaving and joining the Alliance, but they would hate the idea more than they would a set plan, she hoped.

She knocked on the office door as a voice promptly summoned her from inside. Her father sat at his desk tending to something on the computer. At least someone was busy. He didn't look up as she sat the mug down, attentive to the screen. He, like Phil was on the other side of the hump in life. Harder to tell, but his face was sharp and his short blonde hair hid it well. She noticed a picture he kept on his desk, of Eva and her family hiking in the woods. Their straight blonde hair contrasting Eva's jet black waves. He wasn't really her father. She was adopted, her parents died in an accident, but he was as much a father as any of the other dads.

"Are you about ready to go down to the pad?" He asked looking up from the now blank screen. She smiled and replied. "But it isn't scheduled for another two hours?" Half asking, unsure of her statement. "It will be here soon. A quicker journey than expected." He replied. "And since I am going, you are welcome to clock out early." She smiled a reluctant smile. She hadn't expect for him to come, and more pressingly, she hasn't told him about her desire to leave. She had hoped to tell him in a more opportune setting, for she feared he wouldn't take it well.

Sipping from his mug he said, "Go log off and we will go." She nodded silently, turning and heading back to her desk. Everything was in order for Annie to take over, she just turned the computer console off and she was finished. Her father soon followed, walking out in the blue uniform and black trousers. She was happy to not have to wear a uniform. She was only a clerk after all. She was only asked to be presentable.

"Ready?"

"Let's go." She replied as they set off out of the pod and down toward the center of town.

The sound of blood pumping was pounding in Tacitus ears like a violent war drum. He stood cradling his throbbing arms behind a rugged column that scratched at his back through the rough shirt. Pulling away his hand away revealed a blue stained hand, and the smell of iron. He was in trouble. On the other side of pillar stood two white scaly varren flanking any escape. Their dog-like form stood daunting as they paced between two imaginary points in the arena, standing light on their four paws. Their eyes glowed an ominous rich purple almost empty, for he couldn't make out a pupil in the depth of darkness. This was unlike other varren he had faced in the past. These were no lap dogs. Four dagger-like, glossy fangs hung outside their jaws, likely to rip him into ribbons. They had already gotten a piece of him. He thought wincing as he touched the gash in his arm.

Tacitus forced two deep breaths. "Calm down," a phrase he repeated so often they might as well be tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. He knew he would be in trouble if he stood there for much longer. One, because the four legged killers weren't going to wait forever, and two, cowardice is grounds for punishment in this pit, and he feared the later far more.

He stepped out from the column and put his body between it and the beasts. The clamor that surrounded him grew. At least they haven't turned on me yet, Tacitus thought to himself with a bit of relief. He starred at the two varren, preventing one from escaping his sight for long. Varren were pack hunters, he could count on a coordinated attack. Both pale creatures paced waiting for him to give them an opening. The rattle of their chains rang endlessly as the varren pulled at their restraints. They had plenty of chain to reach him, it was more for clearing the pit, assuming he was a shredded corpse.

This was it. He took a deep breath. Calm down.

He dashed for the center of the arena, splitting the beasts. He saw them running at him, in his peripheral, and he dropped into a slide as the two beasts leaped for his throat. Sliding out of harm, the two collided in midair dropping in a bundle signaling a rise in the surrounding roar. He took the nearest chain in his hands. Preparing for the next attack, he pulled lengths for reserve. Dazed for but a second, the two white varren recovered and gave chase, fighting each other for the kill. Tacitus lashed a chain in their direction hitting one hard in mouth, breaking one of the four protruding fangs while the other leaped to attack again.

Tacitus rolled on his back, and the varren followed; it moved to tear his face off. He held the chain taught in the beasts jaw. It was the only thing keeping the fangs from tearing a mandible. He kicked at the back legs, breaking the beasts balance as the mass fell on top of Tacitus. It was much heavier than he thought as he shoved his body up and over, rolling with the hound. The other was on the move, and out of sight. He couldn't tangle for much longer or he would be torn apart from behind. He dropped the chains and grab the varren by the throat. He squeezed as hard as he could as the beast thrashed against him, and with one violent pull, life left the hound, and again the pit resonated like thunder.

He had no time for celebration as Tacitus cried out. Sharp pain shot up his leg as he was dragged away from the lifeless white hound. The other beast had his ankle in his jaw. Tacitus kicked violently at the beast throat, and the vice relented. He scrambled away to his knees. His foot was mangled in a horrific angle. The sand around him was dyed a deep blue by the steady flow of blood from both his arm and his ankle. Fear overwhelmed him as his heart began to race. He wasn't walking out of here. He looked back at the varren. It, only a few meters in front of him, was ready to end his miserable life.

Tacitus dropped in the sand looking at the approaching beast. His arms went lifeless to his sides in defeat. Amidst the warm sand, he felt a rock hard, but smooth protrusion against his limp hands. He suddenly realized that the broken fangs of the beast laid in his hands.

The beast leaped viciously at him, and it was over. Both Tacitus and the varren laid motionless in a heap. A deep ruby red pool dyed the sands in the pile. Violent spurts protruded from the fangs gash in the varren throat. Tacitus sighed in relief. He would live to fight another day.

He looked up at the crowd around him still held down by both pain and the lifeless mass. They hooted and hollered. His pain, and the varren's death was their pleasure. He remember once resenting them, back when he felt like a prisoner at their mercy, but now he couldn't feel anything at all. He had died long before this battle.

"Get up, Turian." A massive hulking Krogan stood over him. It much taller than he was, and was supported by large tree trunk thighs. A heavy square torso with shoulders that protruded above his head which sat forward of his body. His head featured a wide set sand colored eyes. His forehead featured a red bone-like plate, thick, likely to stop a blade. This was his captor. His deep blood red armor featured much wear and tear, from more than a few battles. "I won't ask again." His deep lumbering voice warned.

"I can't." Tacitus replied. "My foot is broken." The Krogan growled with hostility before he called over another slave who pushed the beast off of Tacitus and pulled him to his feet. Supported by the help, Tacitus limped out of the pit leaving two lifeless varren, soaking the sands with their blood, and the thundering roar of the crowd.


	2. Chapter 2 Eva

Chapter 2 Eva

The crowds were just beginning to form as Eva and her father arrived outside the launch pad. This was going to be the first trader in couple months. Sure, the colony was self-sufficient but there are many parts and luxuries that you can't make at home. Everything from computer chips and medicine to clothing and exotic foods was on the manifest. That was sure to stir up some excitement in the colony.

The roar of the thrusters was the first thing they heard, moments before the ship came into view. It certainly was an ugly thing. It looked like a pod with wings, it was edgy and had a boxy form. It was the color of dirt and it screeched as it hovered over the launch pad. As it slowly began its descent, Eva and her father pushed through to the front. Her father was in charge of security after all, and they had to have the first look at the goods, to check for anything dangerous of course. At least, that was her father's purpose here.

The craft touched down and immediately grew timid, as Eva and her father made their way to cargo doors. Hiss of air preceded the opening of the doors to reveal both cargo and crew standing just inside.

"Welcome," her father said, "I am head of security. I will be doing a brief scan before you unload." The man in the middle waved him in as her father began a search of the hold. The crew were all human, dressed in the tan leathery overalls, black work boots, and a dark brown undershirt except for the middle man. He dressed in black trousers and a black heavy jacket while sporting a white shirt. He was a taller man with brown hair and rough features. His presence dominated the area, much more so than his crew.

"You're clear." Said her father from just behind the crew. "I will hold off the colonist until you are ready. We haven't had visitors in sometime."

"All the better for us." Said the man in black. "Men, unload and set up the goods." In an instance, the scene was chaotic. The crew got right to work unloading. Some carried boxes by hands, while the others used lifts from the ship for the heavier cargo bins. The captain walked off toward the front of the ship and began reading over a datapad. Her father left the ship and tended to the crowd leaving Eva alone by the ship. This was the time to talk if any.

Eva walked over to the captain. "Sir?" She said out of courtesy not to startle the captain. He turned toward her with a raised eyebrow.

"May I help you?" said the captain.

"Do you offer transit?" asked Eva with restraint in voice. She was bit nervous. She has always been shy with strangers, but there was more to it. She was asking to leave her parents.

"Depends on where you want to go?" he said half asking. "I am always looking to make an extra buck, but I am not going out of my way."

"I want to go to the Citadel." He starred at her after her statement. It made her uncomfortable, like he was burning a hole in her head. She adverted her eyes and had an increasing desire to squirm from discomfort before he answered.

"Well, you are in luck. We are headed there next, but it's going to cost you." She breathed a sigh of relief, she only hoped that what she had was going to cover.

"I can pay 750 credits." He starred at her again. She wondered if he was thinking and, if that was the case, she'd bet he has scared away a number of customers. She didn't have that option. It was him or wait for the next trader, however long that took. Still, she hated that blank stare.

"1500," he said. Taken back, Eva was shocked and then angry. She was being hustled.

"What?! You are trying to scam me!" she said a bit heated.

"Well I can't just let you get on for scraps." He said in an unapologeticly, "I will go down to 1000 credits, if you don't like it, get out here." That was almost all she had. She would have scraps left over. Was it worth it? She wouldn't make much more between now and the next trader, and her new life was right here in front of her.

"I can do it." She said reluctantly. His stare didn't relent but he did smile bringing her some ease. He didn't have time to respond before a loud crack followed by deafening thunder resonated behind them, followed by desperate cries for help. A robotic lift was coughing up smoking and sparking just behind the ship. A man from the crew laid pinned down beneath it. His agonizing stare pierced Eva's soul.

It took only a moments breathe and the lift was surrounded by the other crewmen, and Eva found herself trying to lift the broken sled. It was unbearably heavy getting hotter by the second as the smoking engine developed into flames. Another crack from the engine and more flames emerged emitting an overwhelming heat wave. The crew all took a step back, but Eva stood steadfast. She was standing just above the crying man, something inside her wouldn't let her retreat. Fueled by the need to set this man free, Eva pulled. The heat stabbed at her skin relentlessly. She felt her arms would pop from the force she exerted, but the man's cries pushed her on.

Eva let lose a desperate cry and then, the lift flipped up into the air sliding across the pad and into the far wall. She could barely stand as she was consumed by nausia. The world tilted and twisted before her vision faded to white, and with a thud, she felt the world drift away.

It was the aroma that woke her up, or rather the uneasy absence of smell. Bright lights and white walls were all that she could make out of her blurry vision. Her hearing returned, though she wished it hadn't, confirmed by the rhythmic, high pitched ping to her right. Her remaining sense returned one by one. She felt clean and the rough linen that draped over her legs scratched her as she begin test her movement. The room became to come into focus. She was in the infirmary, lying in bed.

"It's good you are finally awake. How are you feeling?" A sweet voice said coming from her right. Eva, startled by the women, shakily responded.

"What happened?" Each word came out painfully and required significant effort to keep coherent.

"You have major burns on your hands, and minor burns throughout your body. Those will heal within the night, but your hands will take time." said the women. Eva recognized her. She was the newest colonist, but a rather poor title since she has been here for five years. No family. She came on a whim and has been running the infirmary ever since, for how kind she was, she didn't answer though, not in the way she wanted.

"But what happened? She remembers and explosion at the pad, but after that it's blurry. The women left without a word. Left alone with her thoughts and the outrageous beeping. While annoying as it may be, it wasn't hard for Eva to relax. Sleep would take her easily without warning.

A gentle touch woke her up this time. She was still lying in that room. Sitting next to her was her father with his hand overlapping hers. How happy she was to see him. He was wearing his security uniform, she only wondered if it was the same one or if she has been out longer than she expected.

"How long have I been out?" She felt much better than before. She felt rejuvenated and the discomfort had faded. Her hands felt clammy and cramped, but she remember what the doctor told her. She had been badly burned.

"The accident was two days ago and it's almost 8:00 p.m." He said. "Joy told me you woke up once before, but you have been out ever since." She has been out for more than two days. She was shocked to say the least. Exempting her hands, she felt as if she woken up from a pleasant midday nap.

"What happened?" Her father looked nervous, looking around the room, before turning back to Eva.

"You used your biotics, and not just a slight slip, you flipped a lift eight people couldn't lift like it was a soccer ball." Despite the astonishment of her achievement, her father quivered. He was pale and black bags hung under his eyes. "Everyone saw you flip it. I told the doctor to keep it under wraps, but the captain has been asking a lot of questions."

"I am so sorry, father." She said. She knew how they felt about her using her powers, but the secret was out now.

"It's alright. It can't be helped now," he said quite forlorn, "Your mother and I are just happy you are alright." He looked hurt. Despite his words, he didn't look as though he has passed the issue.

"Why does it matter if a few spacers know?" She understood their protective nature, but her parents were going too far. Her father look like a wreck.

"It's not just them. It's everyone. Bad things happen to biotics. They will come and take you away."

"You say that, but what if I want them to come? What if I want the Alliance to come take me away?" Tears began to blur her vision. She had wanted this but it wasn't going as she planned. She was sad not determined, and her father was not angry, his bleak face didn't change.

"It wouldn't be the Alliance that found you first." He said. With that note. The door slide open. The captain stood in the agape doorway. "The nurse notified me that you were awake." He said walking over to her bedside. He looked directly into her eyes. "Thank you. You saved a member of my crew's life. I am in your debt." He spoke in an even tone. It was hard to detect any measure of gratitude in his tone.

"I don't even know what happened." She lied, for her father's sake, but it was hard to lie under the microscope of this man's eyes.

"You have exquisite eyes. Purple is not a common color among humans. Common in the Asari, but not humans." She wanted to squirm her way away from this man, but she wouldn't have too.

"If you don't mind sir, I would like you to leave," interjected her father, "My daughter needs rest."

"I am sure she does." Said the man, as he looked away from Eva and onto her father. As he walked out of the room without fuss, he left with one last remark. "I will take you to the Citadel whenever you are fit, and you keep your credits. Consider it my thanks."

The door slid shut again, and they were alone. "What was that?" Her father looked at her accusingly.

"I bought a ride off planet. I was going to tell you that night, but..."

"You are leaving tomorrow." Eva's mouth fell to the floor. She couldn't believe her father. This man was creepy and suspicious. Not to mention all the times he has said she must remain hidden, quiet and within the safety of this colony. "It's the only option for you now. Staying here has become dangerous." She was still frozen from shock by her father's intentions.

"What will happen if I stay?" She asked, but if she was honest with herself. She didn't want to know the answer.

"There is a chance you can make it to the Alliance safely, if you leave. A chance you won't get if you stay. People will come. Sooner or later. Slavers, scientist, aliens, whoever, because now you are worth a lot to many people" Tears streamed down her face, and her breath became short. She should be happy. She is leaving, if only it was on her terms. She didn't want to be forced away from her father. That hurts both of them far more than her leaving willingly. "Tomorrow. Be ready. I will go negotiate safe travel with that captain. A promise is better kept with credits behind it." He got up from his chair by her side. Tears streamed down his face. He turned for the door, before she cried out.

"Dad. I love you." She could hardly get the words out between her cries. She felt much worse than before. She felt beaten and broken again. The wind was taken out of her and there was nothing she could do. She was helpless.

"I love you too."


	3. Chapter 3 Tacitus

Chapter 3: Tacitus

Tacitus watched tentatively as Myelin poked and prodded inside his ankle. He had to watch. Though the pain was rough and excruciating, the pain was always worse if he looked away. He certainly had overactive imagination in a strange sort of way.

When he developed this weird habit? Probably in his youth when his biggest fear were large needles. His mother, a soft-hearted woman, at least by Turian standards, taking him by the hand and assuring him that he would be alright. "You shouldn't be scared of a little needle." she'd say. He missed those moments, not because he was going to die in this hell hole, or worse in this cage with a Salarian trying to help him. No, even if he was off this dust bowl of a planet, fighting battles and winning glory alongside his brothers would he be spared this longing for his mother.

"You fought well Tacitus." Said Myelin seemingly energetic though that's how all Salarians sounded. Tacitus passive grin strained at the comment though he was indifferent. Myelin was often very critical, must have been quite a show. "Only one serious injury this time. No weapon either. Impressive."

"Almost died like a coward." A booming voice said surprising Tacitus. Quash Maljax was impressively quiet for being a Krogan as he lumbered into the makeshift operating room. Always critical though he does have a reputation to uphold. "Dumb luck." He spat out. Grumbling trailed after before a grin appeared on the sharp, scale covered face. "That's my boy." Maljax said as if Tacitus wasn't his gladiator slave but actually his beloved son. Someone should take a picture.

"At least with this leg injury I will be out of the pit for little while longer." Tacitus said. "Less likely to get killed that way."

"And not earning any credits." Growled Maljax.

"To be fair, you almost got killed outside the pit." chimed Myelin not looking up from stapling his leg wound together. Tacitus grimaced for instance at the reminder burying it quickly before Maljax picked up on it, who only laughed, low in tone and painfully slow. That memory was not something to be relived.

"But that's behind us now isn't it Tacitus." Maljax said slapping Tacitus hard on the back causing him the jump. Tacitus grunted while remaining wordless. "Now. We see eye to eye. You earn me credits and I…" Maljax stopped as if for dramatic effect, but he did not continue. Myelin stopped and looked toward the giant, stumbling idiot. Tacitus remained facing forward. Eyes never leaving his leg. Krogan's were bad at communicating with words though this wasn't a communication issue. Even Tacitus couldn't think of anything Maljax gave him in their relationship. "get the credits you earn." He finally finished. Chuckling in the slow painful way he does.

"I think I am all finished with your leg, Tacitus." Myelin said as he moved to Tacitus' side to help him to his feet. "You are still numb from the sedative. I have more if you require it. You will be in some pain and much discomfort until the bones heal and the flesh returns. One month."

"I provide those." Maljax said though Tacitus wasn't worried he was going to take them away. "Be ready for the fresh blood." Maljax said as he began to exit to cramped operating room before beginning to chuckle. "Wouldn't want you to miss out on the fun."

Tacitus and Myelin followed though at a slower pace. They exited the shack into the main hall of the slave quarters. It was a grand room, spacious and tall. The walls were smooth, clean cut concrete in their prime though now chunks had fallen and been collected in large piles leaving behind numerous gashes and hairline cracks. The ceiling was mostly intact. Rebar was exposed in some areas but they were sparse. It fared better than the walls though they were likely to collapse and kill them all, if only Tacitus was so fortunate. The air was thin and crisp and the lighting was largely poor in quality, as mostly dim red-tented, pollution light guide them as they walked to Tacitus' spot in the main hall. Tacitus sat on a terrace slightly raised from middle ground between the training circle and the chow tables. He could see the whole room without being exposed. A cautionary that only use to matter.

"You use to be more, chatty." Myelin said as he sat Tacitus in his spot behind the circle table. "Always calm, level headed, but not stoic."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Use to buttheads with Maljax. Suspecting out of spite." Myelin continued.

"I am just tired, and as you said, numb." Tacitus shrugged.

"I remember you use to confuse Maljax with witty words and dry satirical humor." Tacitus smiled. Maljax use to get so worked up. He remembered one time he was "complimenting" Maljax on his red armor. One the first times he feigned any kind of compliance. Maljax, so proud of his brilliant, polished, blood red armor, couldn't help but stay and brag with Tacitus whose dark blue armor paled in comparison, and Tacitus let him know that he stood out among the Blood Pack, until he implied that Maljax has never been in a real battle with no scratches on that shiny red armor. Next day Maljax came back from patrol injured from charging into a rival clans hideout alone. Worst of all he survived. "You lost your touch."

"Luckily you haven't lost yours, my friend." Tacitus grinned raising his leg to rest in the dusty seat across from him. "Thank you for patching me up."

"Would be better if you didn't get hurt." Myelin replied with a bit of callousness.

"I agree." He struggled to maneuver his leg into a position that offered the most comfort. He settled for mild discomfort and no pain.

"Consider training more. Reflexes dulling."

"I don't agree but I appreciate your concern." They stared out over toward the training circle. It was uncharacteristically full of would be gladiators.

"I suspect your fight scared the fresh combatants." Myelin commented as they looked out over the field of fighters. Many of them where young, scrawny Humans, though there were also Batarians and Salarians among them. They spared, uncoordinated due to inexperience and winded against one another or with the training dummies. One of Maljax's men paced between the many groups occasionally growling and snapping at the fighters, often injecting and taking the place of one of the slaves to fight the other and rarely offering constructive combat advice.

"Perhaps you should consider training with him." Myelin said pointing to a large Batarian sparing against three humans at once.

"Can't. Doctor said to lay off the foot for a month." Tacitus smirked.

"You will be healed in two weeks." Myelin replied unfazed and even mannered.

"He might not last that long anyways." Tacitus said gesturing to other veterans standing just outside the training area pointing and talking just as they had been, though they lacked honorable reputations. Still he managed three men rather well. Even if they are untrained. "Many of them will be gone before the week us up."

"Always this way after a new shipment."

"Yeah. You can smell the fear and false hope in the air."

"Always thought that was sweat and varren shit." Myelin joked though there was some truth to his statement. A rare occasion never the less. Tacitus' grins strained. He pitied them, the new fighters. How many of them scared, hopeless, fearing the fights to come. They were the lucky ones. They would live, at least a fair number of them, to see two maybe three fights before dying quietly beneath the thunderous cheers of the crowd. Some of them would live to see maybe ten fights, but how many veterans can say they have seen that many? That is almost six months of fighting for dear life.

Then there was the hopeful. The combat trained ex mercs and soldiers were among this group. They were the unlucky ones. They would survive three fights, but die torturous deaths before six especially those confident in their abilities. Hot shots are often eat by varren painstakingly slow. Everyone likes to test the new blood, though they often get a weapon when fighting those beasts. The truly marvelous idiots try to test the Krogan and search for a way out. Their fate is worse than death.

"Excuse me." A quiet voice said from behind Myelin pulling their gaze away from the training grounds. Three Humans and a Salarian stood trying to look tough or rugged, something rough, but Tacitus wasn't sure. "May we sit down?" The short blonde Human said. Tacitus didn't given any sanctioning grins or grunts but Myelin nodded pointing to the numerous empty chairs around the table. They all sat making passing eye contact with Tacitus but no sounds until the Salarian spoke.

"That was a good fight, Tacitus. Anyone else would have died."

"What do you want?" Tacitus responded.

"You've been here longer than anyone." The blonde man continued. "24 fights in the pit. Not many people are capable like you."

"No one has military training like him and he doesn't leave the arena without his fair share of injuries." Myelin cut in.

"We want your help… Escaping." The tall dark human said.

"No." Tacitus responded. The blonde man began to start but Tacitus cut him off. "You boys better get comfortable with however many fights you got left because no one escapes." The dark human began to protest, but Tacitus wouldn't let him speak. "You boys have only been here a month. I saw your fights. You might last another month." Pausing only to breath he then glanced at the shockingly mild mannered Salarian. "You might last two if you lose the humans. But you will all die tomorrow if you try to escape. I will last another month. Given a free pass you see, but if I die it will be next month not any sooner."

The men in front were silent, past shocked. They accepted Tacitus' answer though they didn't like it. Without a word, they got up from their seats and walked down toward the training grounds headed toward the Batarian sparing now four men at once.

"They don't know any better." Myelin defended. He was surprisingly compassionate today or at least sympathetic.

"You're right. They don't." Tacitus watched them approach the Batarian. His sparing partners were taking a break, tending their injuries he presumed. Tacitus chuckled a little. They are sparing with him now. "Before they do anything stupid lets educate my future sparring partner."

Tacitus moved to stand but sharp pain enflamed his leg. Wincing from the pain, he decided sitting was better. "Perhaps later."


End file.
